Summer's In The Air Now
by rayychel infinity
Summary: The thin fabric of his cotton shorts have slid and bunched up around the tops of his thighs and he finds himself holding his breath in anticipation. He digs into the sheet, bunches it up with one hand, and breathes out, "Blaine."


**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own _Glee_. Fox does. And Ryan Murphy. Title taken from "Wet Hot American Summer" By Cobra Starship. I also love that movie.  
>So I said I was working on <em>Silent Dreams<em>. Well, I really am. I promise. Warnings for this are: blowjobs in the dark, some swearing.

**xxxxXxxxx**

The middle of summer comes hot and hazy. Thunderheads bubble on the horizon and fade away and the grass slowly begins to wilt and turn brown from the heat. Most families have given up at this point in trying to make their lawns presentable and instead spend their days on shaded porches or cool living rooms, a glass of iced tea or lemonade slowly gathering water droplets beside them as they open their well-worn paperbacks and try to imagine somewhere like Antarctica.

Community pools are always filled to the brim, concrete walkways water-soaked and filled with tired mothers with varicose veins yelling at their children to stop running. Ice cream and popsicles melt before they're fully eaten and heat warnings are issued almost daily.

Sprinklers are used not for watering but for placating the kids who didn't get to the pool early enough, didn't have one, or just didn't want to go. Slippery grass that shines like a million crystals in the hot sun and the cold bursts of water from a plethora of little nozzles keeps the kids' voices shrieking all the way up until dinnertime when the mosquitoes come out and the barbecue is ready.

The Anderson household is surprisingly quiet. With Blaine's parents gone on some convention he has the sprawling house all to himself for a week. When they leave early Monday morning he heads to the thermostat and dials the temperature down to a cool sixty-eight. He'll keep it that way until they return.

On Wednesday Kurt makes the two-hour drive from Lima. When the doorbell rings sometime around one Blaine pulls open the heavy oak door to see Kurt standing on the steps in a simple pair of cream-colored linen shorts and a brown tank top, DVD clutched in his hand. It's a dashing look on him, to say the least.

Kurt's meticulously-kept hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat and blown about into haphazard wisps, no doubt from driving over with the window down. Kurt hates wasting gas, and cranking up the A/C full-blast like Blaine has a penchant for doing is at the top of his "Car-Related Things _Not_ to Do" list.

Not all people are loaded like you, he'll say. Blaine will just smile sweetly and kiss Kurt until he forgets what he was reprimanding him for.

Kurt smiles at him briefly, adjusting his sunglasses before taking them off of his adorably-freckled nose and squinting in the yellow sunlight. He says, "Oh god, it feels so nice in there," and pecks Blaine on the cheek, stepping past him into the house with sunglasses perched on top of his head and arms spread wide.

"You are amazing," Kurt says with his eyes closed as Blaine shuts the door. He looks like Rose at the bow of the _Titanic_. "It's gotta be a hundred degrees out there today."

"Hottest day of the year so far," Blaine helpfully supplies and tries to act like he's not shamelessly checking Kurt out from his slim, toned legs to his long, elegant fingers. He coughs and shuffles awkwardly on his feet at the thought of the capabilities held in those fingers.

Kurt hums a little in agreement and takes a couple of yoga breaths. He's really missed Blaine, but the shop has been busy as of late and he's been there more and more, and one of Blaine's shortcomings is sometimes he's _seriously_ lazy and doesn't want to make the drive to Lima. He's lucky he's cute, Kurt always says with an eye roll when he receives texts stating just that in response to his invitation to come over to his house.

A minute or so later Kurt opens his eyes; the blue-gray is barely visible through the slitted lids, his mouth is turned up slightly in the corners and Blaine really wants to kiss him. Then he remembers that, oh _god_, he can now, and he takes the necessary steps forward to place his hands on either side of Kurt's face, marveling at the feeling of such smooth skin under his palms, before stretching up to press his lips to Kurt's.

Kurt tastes like chapstick and toothpaste and Blaine lets out a tiny moan.

"Let's go to your room," Kurt says when there's enough space between their lips to speak properly. Blaine's eyebrows rise up and Kurt laughs, smacking him on the arm. "_Say Yes to the Dress_, perv," he says, brandishing the DVD case that had, until a minute ago, been digging into Blaine's back as they kissed. His eyes twinkle and Blaine gets that swooping feeling low in his stomach like he usually does when Kurt's around.

Even though the walk to his room involves only a flight of winding stairs and a turn and a half in the upstairs hallway, Blaine's hand finds Kurt's and they twine fingers, both smiling shyly and side-glancing when they think the other isn't looking.

**xxxxXxxxx**

Blaine apparently really likes it cold in his room because it's like the Arctic Circle in there, leaving Kurt to rethink his summer attire. And he's got some seriously heavy-duty curtains on his window that blocks out pretty much any form of light. They're huddled up under the blankets, legs tangled and Blaine's head on Kurt's chest, as the third episode of the season starts.

Blaine's hair is soft underneath Kurt's fingertips as he works through it absentmindedly. By now they've settled into this comfortable medium where talking isn't a necessity and Kurt really enjoys their silences that manage to speak volumes while allowing him to focus on Blaine's steady breathing, something that's always been a calming thing for him.

Blaine, apparently, has other ideas today. As the credits roll for the current episode Blaine shifts in Kurt's arms, slinging his left leg over Kurt's right and positioning his body so that he can press soft kisses to Kurt's exposed shoulder.

Kurt's skin prickles and his hand slides from Blaine's hair to his back almost instantly, his fingers digging into the fabric of Blaine's shirt. The dresses onscreen swim in and out of focus as Blaine's lips work their way higher, over the jut and curve of his collarbone, the soft, tender skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Kurt tries not to moan because damnit, today was just supposed to be watch-TV-and-cuddle day. July is not a month meant for sex or fooling around.

When Blaine's teeth scrape across his skin and bite down with just enough pressure Kurt forces his shiver back and presses insistently at Blaine's shoulder instead, seeing the bottomless pit he's about to throw himself into if he doesn't stop Blaine right now.

"Blaine. Blaine, stop it!" Kurt orders though there's not much conviction in his voice or in his hands. It's really unfair how good it feels. "_Blaine_. Seriously, I thought that you wanted to watch this season of _Say Yes to the Dress_."

"Mmm, I do," Blaine says, pressing his lips to Kurt's cheek as he shifts again to slide between Kurt's legs, blanket rustling and dipping with the movements of his shoulders as he props himself up first with his left arm, then with both once he's successfully bracketing Kurt's hips. "But I like watching you more."

"That's creepy." Kurt shifts his legs so that they're loosely wrapped around Blaine's waist. He knows that trying to resist Blaine now is going to be next to impossible and that black hole is looming ever closer, pulling and tugging on Kurt's molecules and threatening to lose them in the vast sea of pleasure.

"You love it," Blaine says as he works his way down Kurt's neck, lips hot and tongue moist where it wets his skin. Kurt tries to stifle his groan and the slight way his body arches up but is unsuccessful. He can hear the woman on screen complain about the ruffles on her dress but sees nothing as Blaine leans up, tongue dragging, and then Kurt's eyes are sliding closed and he's breathing in Blaine's familiar scent.

Blaine's tongue brushes along his bottom lip and Kurt's mouth readily opens. Blaine slides his hands down Kurt's chest, dipping to stroke his sides before gripping Kurt's thighs and hoisting them further up where they're wrapped around his waist. Their lips slide languidly together and all they can hear now is each other's breathing and noises that mean _more, please, more_.

"Blaine," Kurt says again, tone entirely different this time. This time it's racked with arousal and suddenly he can care less what Randy is saying to some distraught bride-to-be. Blaine leans closer, licking into Kurt's mouth and using Kurt's position to rock forward and rub his clothed erection against Kurt's, murmuring, "Do you like that?"

Kurt's arms tighten where they've snaked around Blaine's neck and his head tips back further into the pillows. "God, _yes_."

Blaine slides down, keeping Kurt's legs open with firm palms, and stops eye-level with Kurt's lap. He glances upward, the shadows of the blanket making him almost indiscernible against the blue-white glow of the television, but his eyes are like two bright pinpricks that Kurt can pick out almost instantly.

The thin fabric of his cotton shorts have slid and bunched up around the tops of his thighs and he finds himself holding his breath in anticipation. He digs into the sheet, bunches it up with one hand, and breathes out, "_Blaine_."

Blaine leans down and mouths, hot, at the clothed head of Kurt's cock. The tendons on Kurt's calves shake and his stomach muscles dip inward and tighten as he tries not to push up against Blaine's mouth, and oh _fuck_ he's nuzzling like some needy cat, tongue darting out and tasting linen and heat and untainted need.

"Oh, god," Kurt gasps as the moist heat of Blaine's mouth is replaced by the rough pressure of his palm as he cups and squeezes gently.

"I really don't know what I'm doing," Blaine says softly, nervousness threading through his words and his blasé persona crumbling bit by bit like an old building. Kurt wishes that there was more light in the room so that they could see each other, light that would allow him to look deep into Blaine's eyes and say that he didn't care. He didn't know what he was doing, either.

It's the summer before their senior year of high school; they're still kids and kids are allowed to be inexperienced and awkward in almost every aspect of life. Kurt just knows that Blaine's touch, smell, presence, is something that he never wants a shortage of.

It was only at the beginning of vacation that they started taking things further. Blaine had been just as hopelessly awkward as Kurt and for Kurt that's what made things _better_. He didn't have to worry in the back of his mind whether or not he could live up to Blaine's previous encounters and was free to blush and not know where to situate his arms when he's on his back and forget that he needed a pillow underneath Blaine's hips before he pressed his fingers inside of him.

Together they learned, and though Blaine may have shakily told Kurt that he didn't know what he was doing Kurt didn't care because soon it'd just be the two of them, lost in the taste of sweat and lust and the smell of each other, their moans and gasps rising like invisible tendrils and floating around them like ghosts. They'd clutch onto each other as they came, and tangle like snakes when they were done, hearts beating in sync as their breathing slowly steadied.

"Come up here and kiss me," Kurt demands. Blaine does as he's told and Kurt moans, first as his body's bent in half and friction is against present on his cock, this time again in the form of Blaine's own persistent erection, and second as their lips meet and the kiss is instantly deepened by an overeager Blaine. Blaine rocks forward and his teeth nip at Kurt's lower lip.

"I—I," Kurt gasps as Blaine moves to suck at a patch of skin on his neck, moaning when Blaine's hips grind down against his. Blaine moves back to blow cool air on the purpling bruise, smirking at Kurt's sharp gasp and desperate, "Blaine, I need…" that tapers off into nothingness.

"I wanna suck your cock," Blaine moans, filling the void with his own desires, his arms trembling where he's holding himself up. "I need to taste you."

"Do whatever you want," Kurt says, grasping and tugging at Blaine's hair. "You're so sexy when you're horny and cock-hungry."

"And you're decidedly not embarrassed by anything that comes out of your mouth when I'm promising to suck your cock," Blaine replies with a breathy little laugh. "I love it."

He kisses Kurt one more time before sliding down his body, pushing up the hem of his tank top until it's bunched under his arms. His tongue swirls hot and slick around one nipple, then the other. Kurt keens high in his throat, pushing his chest up towards Blaine's mouth and fisting his hands into his hair again, Blaine moaning around the sensitive nub as Kurt tugs hard.

Blaine hooks his fingers in the waistbands of Kurt's briefs and shorts, silently thanking God that Kurt, for once, wore something without a ridiculous array of buttons. He slides them down, Kurt bending his knees and lifting his hips so that Blaine can slide the short-brief hybrid down and off, pulling back a corner of the comforter to toss them to the floor. A gust of cold air descends over their bodies and Kurt shivers, goosebumps popping up over his pale, flushed skin.

"This damn blanket," Kurt grumbles as he feels Blaine's breath over his cock, hips twitching upwards slightly. "I can barely see you and it's a serious tragedy."

"Makes the sensations better," Blaine says as he licks a line from Kurt's balls to the sensitive spot just under the ridge. Kurt yelps and sees the white flash of Blaine's teeth, a beacon in the darkness, as he smiles broadly.

He grasps at the base of Kurt's cock as he slowly sinks his mouth down, tongue flat against the underside as he hollows his cheeks and stops when his lips meet his hand. Kurt whines and paws at his hair. By now the screen's gone blank, pitching the room into near-total darkness.

Kurt can't see anything past his chest, can't see the bob of Blaine's head or the stretch of his lips as he sinks down further, and he misses it, he does, but Blaine was right; not knowing the next move, not being able to anticipate when Blaine would hollow his cheeks and slide up or down or squeeze just right at the base, it's a thousand times better. He can only focus on the slick slide of skin-on-skin and the noisy wet sounds as Blaine slides up and down, tongue swirling when he's not hollowing his cheeks.

It's like those restaurants where you eat in the dark because with one of your senses gone others are enhanced. Kurt arches up, hips bucking a bit too much judging by the gagging noise Blaine makes and he'll kiss Blaine later as an apology, but holy _shit_ he didn't know that Blaine was going to cup his balls with his free hand, rolling them in his palm, before sliding down and brushing the dry pad of his thumb against Kurt's entrance.

"Sorry," Kurt gasps, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his head into the pillows. "Warn me next time. I don't want to choke you."

Blaine laughs, the noise a little raspy and that shouldn't turn Kurt on like it does, but it _does _because that rasp means that he swallowed down Kurt's cock, that it's _Kurt's _fault that his voice is slightly shot. Blaine tongues at the slit of Kurt's cock before sliding his hand up-down gently along the length. He says, "It's okay." Says, "I totally would have done the same. It's the darkness thing. You can't anticipate my next move."

_It's like he's in my mind_, Kurt thinks with a small smile.

Blaine's wrist flicks and he tightens his grip as he reaches the ridge of Kurt's cock and Kurt feels the burning build low in his stomach, slowly spreading to his limbs. He tells Blaine, "I-I'm close," and whimpers when Blaine swipes a thumb over the head before adjusting his hand so that he can trace the vein down Kurt's cock.

"I don't want to mess up your sheets," Kurt gets out as Blaine's hand quickens.

"I don't really care," Blaine says, straightening up and throwing the blanket off of his shoulders. Kurt can vaguely see his outline move against the darkness. The sun's a weak presence behind the curtains and allows for an eerie silhouette as Blaine says, "But if you're so worried about the sake of my sheets…"

Kurt doesn't make another embarrassing noise as Blaine takes his cock into his mouth again, he _swears_ he doesn't. This is one area where neither have had much practice, and it's a few pleasure-filled seconds of Kurt's toes curling into the sheets and his hands resuming their places in the mess of Blaine's gel-free curls before he realizes that Blaine's mouth around him, even after he's already said he was close, means that he's going to _swallow_.

"Oh," Kurt gets out in a strangled little noise. "Blaine, oh, I—"

His hips press up once, twice, and then he's coming down Blaine's throat with a high cry.

He can hear the gulp as Blaine swallows, the noise registering somewhere in the rush of static in his ears as his body moulds to the bed and he lies there, limp, as Blaine shifts around on the bed, no doubt taking off his own clothes, making Kurt realize that his tank top is still bunched up in a sweaty mess around his armpits. He raises himself up enough to slide it over his head and throw it somewhere on the floor.

"Do you need me to…?" Kurt begins, the rest of his sentence lost in Blaine's mouth as he kisses him, and oh. That's come overriding the usual taste of his mouth. Kurt's come. He tastes his own come in his boyfriend's mouth and he instantly wishes he had a fantastic recovery time of about two seconds because that thought is surprisingly erotic.

Kurt presses Blaine closer, opens his mouth wider and tries to take in as much of the taste as he can. His hand presses on the back of Blaine's head, the other cupping Blaine's rough cheek, and he moans softly.

"No need," Blaine says when they part. Kurt raises an eyebrow, confused, before he remembers before that mind-blowing kiss that he'd asked Blaine if he needed to reciprocate. Blaine must catch on to Kurt's confused silence and elaborates. "I kind of… Yeah, I definitely came in my shorts not long before I finished you off." There's a note of embarrassment in his voice and Kurt wants to laugh and kiss it away.

"I'm flattered," he says as Blaine lies down next to him, arm slung over his chest. The room suddenly isn't so cold and the blanket is perfect over their bodies, skin pressing together underneath and transferring heat. "I didn't know I had that effect on people."

"Mm, you do," Blaine says. He's silent for a bit before saying, "Sorry about the whole _Say Yes to the Dress_ interruption. I just missed you, and you looked so adorably sexy today."

Kurt smiles and kisses the top of his head, nuzzling his nose in the curls and inhaling the scent of what he knows is Bumble and Bumble's Curl Conscious shampoo. It's adorable, the way that Blaine is so sensitive about his unruly hair even though he keeps it so short that it's not a problem.

"You'll make it up to me," Kurt says.

Blaine does.


End file.
